Whose Shadow, Long and Low
by Erase Him In The White Silk
Summary: Laura's useless flights on Halloween night, 1988.


~oOo~

* * *

><p>Laura broke away from the crowd. Her tongue was between her teeth as she grinned with a nearly silent laughter that, in tiny throws, struck the back of her throat before being released through her nostrils. Dressed in the style of Pierrot she, on the tips of her cream-colored beau heels, edged past Sheriff Truman, Josie Packard, and Pete Martell. She noticed, in passing, Josie's glance, but did not maintain contact. Staying with her only long enough to make her remember. To visit her dreams when tonight she knew she would be cold - even while in the arms of her unknowing lover.<p>

It appeared that the entire town was in costume, a shifting throng of many colors similar to the surrounding fallen leaves. Those who viewed the costumed beheld the sky above them flooded in places with multi-colored discs from the sun; rays of violets, reds and golds. Badly tuned trumpets could be heard from a parade float behind, the crowd lined beside its form grasping for candy as it fell to them as if from the clouds.

Laura had tied around her wrist a fabric bag full of candies, which she would swing as she walked. Hitting her palm, wrist and back again. The sound of rustling paper, like hollowed stones, acorns, followed her in this way like bells.

People would give her candy wherever she would go, never once considering whether or not she wanted what they had in abundance to give. Everyone in Twin Peaks, no matter their age, was given sweets. Even the Mayor, as he presided over the event dressed as an Victorian-era policeman, had repeatedly withdrawn chocolates and candy corn from his worn paper bag, which was covered with a pattern of grinning black cats, mid-speech.

Laura had seen Donna earlier, her family dressed in black, their accessories by magic turning them into puppet-like birds. Placing a knee in the seat of a bench, Laura had smiled, poking the red paper cone Donna wore as a beak, asking her friend if she wanted to play spooks for a while. Donna's honest reply was that she was at the time too busy but would try to meet with her later. She'd suggested that they might even visit Black Lake Cemetery, if they could summon the courage. Laura dreaded this vapid prospect, but pretended to shiver with fear over the thought as she left.

Proceeding through the labyrinth, Laura noticed Bobby lurking in a corner unmasked. A face affixed to the back of his by string. By the bricks he winced as he cracked his knuckles without knowledge of his being found.

If he and Mike weren't already looking for a fight, Laura knew he would later be looking for the devil in Shelly Johnson.

She left him to dig.

While walking she'd seen the same faces appear in different corners but remain the same. She wanted to leave. In the distance she saw her father as Count Dracula. He had raised his cape to cover half his face, laughing deeply and maniacally for the benefit of children near. Sarah, in the velvet of Stygian, as his vampire bride, smiled through pointed teeth as those who had at one time been close now ran in the direction opposite her husband.

"Having fun, dad?" Laura asked, amused.

"Absolutely. Absolutely," he answered, smiling as he nodded his head. "What about you, honey? You . . . you going somewhere?"

"Yeah, I think I'll go off for a little while with Bobby, Donna or someone. I'll be back before it's too late."

"Fine. But be careful tonight. You never know who - or what - might be around the next corner!" Leland, in elevated spirits, wrapped his arms around both his daughter and wife, drawing them to him tightly until both were released in fits of laughter.

"Tell ya what," out of breath, he rubbed his hands, "if you need us for anything, your mom and I will be at the high school after the parade. Dougie's giving another one of his speeches. OK?"

"Got it." Laura gave her 'okay' by touching her index finger to her thumb, in a circle. "Keep an eye on dad, mom!"

"I'm trying to, Laura. Have fun!"

In farewell she waved over her shoulder. She had a couple of dates she needed to keep. Not with Donna, not with Bobby, but with 'someone' else. Maybe more than one 'someone else'. But first she needed to leave a message with a birdie. "Hey, Donna, listen. . . I think I've eaten too many candies, I feel like I need to lie down for a little while. Bobby's over there and - "

Instantly understanding, Donna interrupted Laura, embracing her. "You have nothing to worry about here. I'm just sorry you don't feel well."

"I'll take something for my stomach so we can meet up later on if you want, after the cookies have gone to sleep. Around eleven? While it's still officially Halloween."

Donna agreed, asking if there was anything she could do to help Laura feel better. Of course there wasn't. And so Laura was free.

BOB had paid a visit in the blue glow of morning. Another venture with knifes before Nancy's social call and the return of her One-Eyed Jack's costume. It was nothing new, to see BOB, but in the cold night she was in need of distraction.

Beyond the crowd another float was passing and excitement surged like a wave through those watching, animating their bodies in unison. Tired of saccharine she withdrew from the festivities, passing on the way home two children. Separate from each other they wore the guises of a fox and a ghost. Alone, alone.

The sky was growing dark as she got behind the wheel of her car. She would be all but blind soon.

Looking in the review mirror, she pulled away.

~oOo~

Parking beside an abandoned building she walked an alley riddled with scars. The barely legible words of an advert were in white along a wall, the shadows keeping the remainder as their own. Spots of night were moving from one area, one storey of a building, to another, in the shapes of branches, trees; swaying in the cold autumn wind. Crossing the empty street her body repelled, fighting the stake being driven through it from the west.

Ascending the stairs to Dr. Jacoby's office her footsteps echoed. She put on a front, a feigned contentment as she approached his door. She could already hear the loud, flowy Hawaiian music synonymous with his being.

"Lawrence," she said lowly, sensually, "open up. It's Laura."

Receiving no reply she reached for the doorknob, thinking of how sometimes he liked to surprise her. She turned it left and right, but it wouldn't budge.

Trying to hear movement from the room beyond she pressed an ear to the O in his name. In it she heard a burst of laughter from the doctor. She pictured him watching one of his taped television programs, until she heard a woman's laughter follow and then merge with his.

With the bag of candy still on her wrist, Laura backed away. She turned her arm so she might hold the bag tightly. She'd planned on giving it to Jacoby.

~oOo~

Laura went on, driving aimlessly. It was a night into which she wanted to escape. But she felt as she had while a child: that there was so much to do, but she didn't want to do any of it.

While paused beneath a red traffic light she saw color fade on a book in the driver's seat. Looking closer she remembered it was one she'd been given by Doc Hayward, Stephen King's _Firestarter. _With the tides of red on orange she decided to visit someone who couldn't leave, and in whose house she wouldn't stay.

She parked off the road in an area out of sight and out of sound. And in this darkness she crept through the dampened leaves behind Mr. Smith's house, stopping once she was outside his kitchen window. With her disturbance the wet, darkened bellies of leaves were left to face upwards, to the sky, to the house where inside a man dreamed of death calling to him from a space near where fallen leaves rested in their final days.

In her mind she had seen Harold cooking when the light turned green and now, staring in, she found him standing by the counter, reading from an open book as he added a cup of flour to a bowl. He paused to scratch his nose with a knuckle and as he did so Laura rapped forcefully on the window. He looked up in shock, leaning against the counter for support as he gripped its edge. She waved, and the relief from seeing Laura's face flowed from his shoulders down, his body going all but limp. Laura imagined she could from beyond walls hear his resumed breath and heartbeat. He raised the finger of one hand and with another pointed toward his living room, nodding to say he would soon meet her at the door. Laura assented and, happy for a moment, skidded through the moss and leaves until finally she was where she was supposed to be. Before he opened the door to greet her, she saw a sheet of folded paper taped to its glass, reading, in his cursive hand, '_No candy!'_ Her lower lip met the upper as his sentiments reached her mind.

"Trick-or-treat!" she cried, holding open the bag on her wrist as if for him to fill. He looked at her questioningly, his mouth open. She drew together the drawstring of the bag and placed it in his hand, along with the novel. "Don't worry, Harold, I brought _you_ a couple of 'treats'. No tricks,_ this time_."

Examining the candy he smiled, holding the book to his chest. He murmured something she at first couldn't understand, "Thank you . . . That's a lovely costume, Laura. It's very pretty on you." He paused in thought. "Oh . . . but I don't have anything to give you . . . I-I'm making a lemon chiffon cake. Stay and have some. Please."

"No, I have to get going. I just stopped by to give you a scare." She slowly started down the path to her car, facing him as she walked. "I'll see you, Harold." Laura turned, seeing him mouth goodbye and with the closing of his door he was again alone.

~oOo~

Intermittent street lights cast from their mouths glowing, incandescent trails of copper and gold; streams which opened to some unknown world of noir excitement beneath cement. The moon, circled by a cloud-like aura of labradorite, pressed through the black silhouettes of branches; they being many and as intricate as lace, as webs, closed in on those under them.

In the woods she had decided to go. To the place she knew as well as herself.

Laura inhaled, once out of the car, feeling as if some of the fire inside her had already been doused. Coming closer, through the briars and lifeless arms of trees, she watched as light brought life to Jacques Renault's cabin. Seeing only dark before she had questioned his presence.

She hadn't told him of her intention to visit, not knowing for certain if she would be able to get away, so naturally he wouldn't stick around for her sake.

She could see him as he existed in the light inside. She was closer now, almost 20 feet away, and she watched as he lowered the needle of his record player. Jacques seemed to be taken away with an opening, and in this state she wanted him to find her. But moving forward, another scene began to play out; a young woman, a glass in each hand, sauntered in the room with a young man who handed Jacques a small package. Jacques looked at it, laughed, and said something to the woman before he pulled her in for a kiss. When she turned to the other man, expecting the same, Jacques drew the curtains. Feeling defeated, Laura left knowing she shouldn't interrupt.

The howling wind took hold of the surrounding trees, bending their limbs, forcing them downwards. With the noise of this action; of fields, the sea, the ever-present past and dread accompanying it, Laura was made to feel something she couldn't understand. The moving world. The world she couldn't touch in dark limbs seemed to cry out in a way she believed her soul would were it free.

_Maybe it is my soul,_ she thought, _maybe it is already free of what I face and is above me, as I walk here in a shell. If only it could stay up there, in the trees, in the woods away. Seeing but not caring or feeling._

She drifted until an owl called her name. Reunited with herself, her current state, she remembered the hour and what would be expected of her, not only from her parents, but Donna as well. Out of her beak and in the dark, surrounded by death.

She'd promised to meet her.

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><p>~oOo~<p> 


End file.
